Reborn Into a Family of Killers

The street was dead quiet.

It had been three months since Ivy Winter was reborn. Three months of searching for her parents.

Her last life had been miserable.

She was the biological daughter of an elite family. She had spent four years living in poverty like an orphan, dreaming of love and pretty dresses and afternoon tea with the Shaw family.

But by the time they found her, her parents had already adopted a girl her age. Chloe Shaw was fair-skinned and golden-haired, like a princess stepped out of an oil painting.

The adopted daughter was bright and cheerful. No matter how much they beat her down, Ivy could never match Chloe's elegance and grace.

In the end, they decided Ivy was a worthless fool. They dumped her on the side of the road and left her to die.

It was a winter just as cold as this one.

Ivy sniffled, curling tighter against the chill. Her green eyes tracked every passerby without blinking.

Drunken brawls, drugs, and gunshots were just part of life here. This was the same street where the Shaws had left her to die. But fate had other plans. She had survived here, and she had found them.

She had no fantasies left about her biological parents. This time around, she only wanted to find her real family. The ones who had given her the warmth she had always longed for.

A man in a black trench coat came walking toward her through the cold wind. A low-pulled hat hid most of his face. His lean frame cut a sharp, almost model-like silhouette even in the dim light. The half of his face visible beneath the brim was pale as a vampire's.

Ivy's small hands tightened around her knees. Her pupils shrank. The man came closer.

It was him.

Vincent Winter had just spent the night dealing with a batch of bodies. He was so wiped out he could barely keep his eyes open. He would have walked straight into someone and not cared. This street was rough, but the M1911 on his hip and his reflexes meant he could handle a threat even half asleep.

Blood on his clothes just meant another load of laundry.

All he wanted was to get home and crash. But a small hand caught his coat.

His thick brows pulled together. His hand went to the gun at his waist.

Before he could pull it out, he looked down and saw a pair of bright green eyes staring up at him.

A kid?

Ivy had found her lifeline. Vincent looked like an ordinary, unremarkable man who wouldn't turn a single head on the street. But to her, he was everything. In her last life, after the Shaws threw her away, he was the one who had picked her up.

In the little time she had left, the Winters had given her the only taste of family she had ever known. They stripped away the surname the Shaws had given her and took her in as their own. Dad worked himself to the bone to pay for her treatment. Mom had cried while she carefully applied medicine to her infected wounds.

Her two older brothers, barely older than her, took turns carrying her outside to get some fresh air.

They didn't care that her face was ruined. They told her that whether Ivy was pretty or not, she was their most precious family.

So Ivy had made up her mind. To hell with her biological parents. This life, she was sticking with the Winters.

"Daddy."

Ivy looked up at Vincent, the word leaving her lips clear and bright.

The tiny girl's face was so caked with dirt her features were barely visible. But her voice was sweet and clear. In the dim light, her green eyes glowed like a stray kitten's — pitiful and lost.

Vincent frowned. He had no reason to hurt a child who had simply mistaken him for someone else.

"Do you need a daughter? I'm Ivy Winter. I'm really good and I won't cause any trouble. I don't have a home. Can I be your daughter?"

Ivy rushed to get the words out, her glowing eyes afraid he would say no.

Vincent stopped walking.

His wife had always wanted a daughter. Five years ago, when she gave birth to their second son, her uterus was damaged. She couldn't have any more children. Over the years, they had adopted several girls from orphanages under different names and identities.

Within months, every single one had gone off the rails and run to the police. Even the ones they had taken by force didn't last. The boldest had jumped from the third floor in the middle of the night, then thrown herself into a river to keep from being dragged back. Every orphanage in the country had blacklisted them.

The couple had long given up on the idea.

And now someone was walking straight into their arms?

Vincent crouched down and tilted up his wide-brimmed hat. His sapphire-blue eyes were calm, yet deep and unreadable in a way that felt almost dangerous.

"I have a terrible temper. Mommy is very scary too. Once you become our daughter, if you ever have second thoughts, Mommy will take a little knife and carve the flesh right off your bones. She'll eat every bite before you even have time to bleed."

"And your pretty green eyes — your brother will turn them into bouncy balls. He'll bounce them on the floor day and night until they pop."

"Still want to be my daughter?"

Vincent's low, smooth voice curled through the air like a devil whispering at the gates of hell.

Those words had sent every other child running. Vivienne couldn't bear to lose another daughter. Vincent just wanted to scare Ivy off.

But the next second, Ivy's green eyes lit up with pure delight. She clapped her small hands and nodded hard.

"Mommy sounds amazing! She can cut meat without even flinching!"

"Mommy must really love me if she wants to eat me. And if Brother wants to play with my eyes, that means he cares about me. Why would I ever regret that?"

"Daddy, can we go home now?"

Vincent went still. He stared at the dirty, smelly little Ivy for a long moment. But there wasn't a trace of fear in those clear, bright eyes.

Was she serious?

Or was something not quite right with her — too simple to understand a threat when she heard one?

Either way, under Ivy's pitiful gaze, Vincent made his decision. He scooped the weightless little girl into his arms.

The family did need a daughter. He couldn't keep watching Vivienne drag herself around, miserable over never having one. A child who wasn't quite all there was fine by him. At least she wouldn't pick up on anything strange and start screaming about running away like the others always did.

That never ended cleanly.

Nestled in Vincent's arms, feeling the same warmth she had felt in her final moments in her last life, Ivy rested her head on his shoulder. She breathed in the smell of blood and cologne that clung to him.

She chose to ignore the dangerous scent, soaking up the warmth of family instead.

It was wonderful. This life, she had found her mommy and daddy safe and whole. She could live happily with them.